**_*Warning: This ain’t “beautiful” as in a beautiful place where the fog lays upon the flowers and green grass. This is art/literature, it is meant to confort the disturbed and disturbed the comforted.*

_**I am

Unable

To think.

My brain,

It is

Blurry. Nothing

Feels

Real anymore.

I try to

Burry

My pain by

Writing writing it

Away.

That never works.

Though,

It helps me

Understand what I

Am feeling

Because

I have trouble

With emotions.

I put a

Shining smile on,

Don’t

Look too close!

You’ll see

My spark is

Gone.

I hate this feeling.

Oh, the panic

Rises

Behind my locked door.

All I can

Think about

Is how my tears are

Salty.

It hurts.

It all hurts.

Not physically,

But emotionally.

I crave a release,

A alternate reality.

I craft

Character

And plots.

I built a world and

A common goal.

In school

I get

Stuck

In my head.

I stare at the

Wall, wondering

Why?

Why did the main

Character

Do that?

Why did _I_ do that?

Self-insert characters

Cry in the stories.

Will they get

A happy ending?

They probably won’t,

The story won’t take

_Them_

__

To the end.

In the end,

Others

Celebrate winning,

But they

Sacrificed themselves

For their friends.

Oh! Now we are doing a project?

What are the directions?

I wasn’t playing attention, but I can’t just ask, my teacher will be

Disappointed!

Look around, what are the others doing?

Oh gosh, I’m falling behind!

If I fall behind what am I?

I have always been gifted,

So what am I without that?

My grades are falling,

I am a failure!

I hate living like this.

In the world where dragons and fairies don’t exist, the dreamers are writing.

We are blinded by our fiction, our escape.

It is better than not having a distraction, though, I was never meant to be a poet nor a plain, normal writer.

I was simply meant to be a genius, but geniuses don’t fall behind.

*This is all over the place, but it is true. My brain is always fogged (not just by stories). Anyways, have a great day!*